I can’t find my Bible. Did you take it,
Floyce Milton? (No I did not, grandmother.
Let me help you look.
We walked the old path.
She started again:) If I got to go, I need my Bible.
Some devil stole it in the middle of the night,
may God crush him under heavy rainclouds.
You know the way to my grave, honey, after you . . .
(There it lies. It’s all a story.)
Take a hand, honey. Here. Help me climb down.
(I couldn’t see. It was dark, the sky red.
What do you think happens next? I tell you
I don’t know, I can’t see, the night is dark,
the sky is red, she’s asleep in her grave.)
(4 October 2012)
copyright 2012 by Floyce Alexander